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“I could marry Svetlana.”
Shane looked across at his - he had no idea what word to use as this point but he was quite sure Ilya was something at this point - and felt his body went cold. Followed quickly by hot. And something twisted in his stomach that he didn’t think he wanted to name. They had been silently scrolling on their phones, just existing in the same place for the first time ever, and Shane had been relishing it. After years of stolen moments, they finally had enough time to just be, even if it was only temporary. It had felt incredible, at least until Ilya had dropped the worst idea he had ever suggested - which was certainly saying something. “What?”
“I could marry Svetlana,” Ilya shrugged, as if the brain damage he must have suffered at some point had suddenly caught up to him all at once. “She is American citizen, would be easy…”
“And I could drown you in the lake,” Shane heard himself say more than think it. “No one knows you’re here, they’d never think to look.”
“What?” Ilya gasped.
“You heard me,” Shane nodded, even though he was aware he would never do such a thing and probably sounded crazy. There was no way he’d murder anyone, let alone the man who had somehow become his favourite person but it was tempting when he was coming up with insane suggestions.
Ilya marrying anyone else sounded more insane than Shane murdering him.
(And no, Shane was not going to examine what the anyone else part of that thought suggested. His nerves were already far too on edge at the moment to examine that thought.)
“You are going to murder me?” Ilya asked, pointing at himself, and Shane could not miss the amusement in his voice, along with the incredulity. “Threaten to kill me?”
“You threatened to marry someone while sitting on my couch, in my cottage, wearing my shirt.”
“Is nice shirt,” Ilya shrugged, his eyes sparkling. “Looks better on me.”
“You are such an asshole,” Shane groaned.
“Was not threat, just an idea to get citizenship.”
“You could just…you have a visa for hockey, you can just apply from that,” Shane argued.
“Yes but that depends on hockey, if I get injured or other issue, could lose chance. Marriage is easier.”
“But you could…” Shane trailed off. He was not going to panic. He was not going to lose it. Although maybe threatening to murder him had been losing it but he was not going to lose it again. He and Ilya had been dancing around this for nearly a decade and neither had ever labeled it or even attempted to label it. He really wasn’t sure why his whole body was humming with anxiety at the thought of someone else being Ilya’s spouse.
“Shane,” Ilya said, pressing the bottom of his feet firmly into Shane’s. “Would not be for love, just for passport.”
“I…I know that,” he nodded, his voice sounding pathetically shaky. “But what if…what if you wanted to marry someone else for love?”
“Is a problem with that,” Ilya breathed.
“What?”
“Every where I go I am surrounded by beautiful women. And they love me.”
“Sounds rough.”
“Yes but listen…these women are so sexy and fun but I am always thinking of this slow fucking hockey player with beautiful freckles. And a weak backhand.”
“A weak backhand?”
“Yes, very weak. And he’s so boring and he drives this terrible car.”
“It’s a normal car!” Shane protested.
“I am always wishing these woman were him. It’s a terrible problem, huh?”
“Do you want that problem to go away?” Shane asked, his throat feeling tight and his eyes burning.
“I don’t ever want that problem to ever go away.”
“Oh,” Shane breathed, blinking quickly because it felt like Ilya had said the words that felt like they were at the tip of his tongue and had been for months now, maybe years, without saying them. Ilya had certainly acknowledged that something very real was here.
“But if I marry her, we could still…”
“I get it,” Shane nodded. “But what if…one day…we could…really be together?”
“That…would be a problem if I married her.”
“Don’t marry Svetlana,” Shane said, clearing his throat. “We’ll figure something else out.”
“Okay,” Ilya shrugged, like the entire conversation hadn’t just changed an unspoken part of the relationship or whatever it could be labeled between them. It was an acknowledgment that they were taking steps or at least trying to to make this actually something.
Even if it felt impossible.
It’d be easier if they could just come out, Shane knew that. It’d be a million times easier if they could just tell the world that they were together. They could be open and together and Shane could marry Ilya for the passport (and also because Shane was quickly coming the realization that there was no one else in the world he wanted to spend his life with and Ilya’s presence in his cottage felt like home in a way Shane hadn’t thought possible). It’d be easy.
But even though Scott Hunter had crossed that bridge, had opened the door to the possibility, Shane knew it’d be so much more complicated for them. They were rivals, had been set as rivals before they even had played their first MLH game. As far as the world knew, they hated each other. Shane was one of the only Asian players in the league, certainly the most visible, and that put already enough pressure on him. He was already othered in the predominantly white sport and while his name and skill level gave him some escape others didn’t have, it wasn’t like he had never heard racism chirped at him before. He didn’t need homophobia on top of it, nor did he want to make life more complicated for other Asian players. And Ilya had Russia. If they came out, Ilya would never be able to go home without fear of being arrested or worse. Ilya might want to get Canadian citizenship but even when that happened, he’d never be able to go home. And regardless of Ilya’s complicated relationship with his family and home country, Shane knew it was home.
“Should tell the world Canada’s golden boy threatened to kill me,” Ilya’s voice interrupted his spiral.
(Not that he had been spiraling, at least not that he’d admit to anyone.)
“Yeah, well…” Shane shrugged.
“Hollander doesn’t even fight and yet saying he is going to murder me.”
Shane looked across at Ilya, at the way he was smirking and his eyes were sparkling, and he knew exactly what Ilya was doing. They had known each other too long and the other man read him too well to not see the spiral that was happening. And was now trying to pull him out of it, which somehow he had become an expert on. “I could do it.”
“Would like to see you try,” Ilya laughed.
“You don’t think I could take you?”
“I know you could not take me.”
“I could and no one would find your body. Lots of land, big lake, no one knows you’re here.”
“Did you bring me here to murder me? Sounds like you think about it,” Ilya’s smirk had turned into a wide grin by this point.
“No but if you keep saying stupid things…”
“You would be suspect,” Ilya shrugged.
“What? Why?”
“We are rivals, world thinks we hate each other,” he shrugged again. “Bit drastic but you are very competitive.”
“I beat you in goals last season.”
“And I beat you in points,” Ilya smirked. “See? Very competitive, sounds like…reason.”
“Motive. No one is going to think I murdered you because of our hockey rivalry.”
“Who else would want to murder me?”
“Most of the league to begin with,” Shane laughed.
“No, no, just chirps, they all love me,” Ilya smiled. “No one murderous except Canadian darling Shane Hollander, with all his land and private lake.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Shane shook his head, although he was sure his face looked far too fond to make the statement have any weight. Or maybe all the weight considering how much he liked how ridiculous Ilya was.
“But you’d miss me if you murdered me, yes?” Ilya smirked, wiggling his toes against Shane’s.
And Shane said nothing back because he wasn’t sure if he could say out loud exactly how much he would miss Ilya if he wasn’t here.
Shane didn’t know when it had happened, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to figure that out but somehow the asshole Russian had become something far bigger than the guy he hooked up with when they played Boston. Shane had known that. It was why he had run away when Ilya had come saying his name, it was why he had tried to date Rose. Ilya Rozanov had somehow become the most important person in the world to him and he had no idea what he was supposed to with that. And now that he was here, existing in Shane’s space, being able to actually spend time talking and in silence and everything in between, it had let the feeling settle and take root deep inside him and he was sure he’d never be able to shake it. He didn’t think he’d ever want to shake it.
The cottage was Shane’s favourite place in the world and the place he felt most at home which was a rare thing for him. But now, with Ilya relaxing across from him, Shane wasn’t sure it’d ever feel like home again without Ilya in it. He wiggled his toes against Ilya’S and smiled as their eyes met again.
So he probably wouldn’t murder him - this time, at least.